


Painkiller

by enterdream5



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Angst, B.A.P - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Mystery, Sliceoflife, Slight Smut, bap - Freeform, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-11-21 21:39:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enterdream5/pseuds/enterdream5
Summary: Himchan is unable to keep his nose out of other people's business - in particular his new neighbour who happens to move in next door.





	1. Paracetamol

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first story on archiveofourown, i normally just post on aff, so hello world and i hope you enjoy me writing this mess

“Don’t be so nosy,” Yongguk scolded Himchan as he passed him a cup of coffee, who was too distracted by the newcomer next door to really pay attention to the elder’s words.

In all fairness, it was a day perfect for moving-in, with the sun beating down on the peeling red doors and the wind almost non-existent, it meant there was little-to-no hassle for the young male who Himchan blatantly found himself spying on.

He couldn’t help it, even with Yongguk’s words which normally he would have found himself begrudgingly obeying, curiosity was something that thrived in Himchan and even more-so when it came to new faces.

This face in particular was a young one, with sharp cheekbones and a strong physique, he was the type of young man you would expect to see in the block of worn-out, city flats.

“You could have at least have let me known beforehand,” Himchan mumbled between his lips, squinting further into the spyhole on his shabby door in order to get a better look while almost spilling his filtered coffee in the process.

Yongguk sighed, stepping back, he took a sip of his own coffee he had worked so hard into making and frowned at the bitter taste, placing it down on the nearest flat surface. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d act like...this,” he gestured at the male who was awkwardly positioned at the door, with one hand flat against its surface while the other held his mug in a dangerously tilted position.

“Wait one moment, he’s got no one to help him, he’s doing everything himself...he hasn’t got that much stuff actually,” the younger ignored Yongguk’s words, instead continuing with his running commentary. He was well aware that any normal grown-up would have just given up trying to look through the spyhole and plucked up the confidence to go outside and talk to their new neighbour themselves, but with Himchan constantly being told that his first impression had always been ‘pushy’ and Yongguk breathing down his neck, he decided to let it pass.

“Himchan, just let him get on with it,” the frustration was really starting to be heard in Yongguk’s voice, and so taking that as a clear warning sign, finally Himchan backed away from the door.

It wasn’t often that the two had time to spend together in the comfort of their own homes, considering both worked full-time and Yongguk lived with his fiance (which he had explained himself was in its own way a second job), so Himchan could see why Yongguk was unimpressed with the younger constantly spying on the young man moving-in next door and effectively wasting the little time they had.

However, that wasn’t stopping him from making the decision to visit his new neighbour the following day.

Himchan brought his coffee to his lips, immediately frowning at the disgusting taste he felt on his tongue.

“Yongguk-ah, this coffee’s shit.”

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

Sticking to his words, Himchan went to visit his new neighbour the following day.

Yongguk, being the caring landlord he was, informed Himchan that the stranger’s name was Jongup and he was of twenty-two years of age, though that was all the information he had decided to give and so definitely not enough to feed Himchan’s growing curiosity.

So Himchan stood in front of the battered door, pausing for a moment in his attempt to knock as he tried to wrack his brains for any information about who the previous tenant was.

Was it a woman? No, I think it was just a guy who brought lots of women over.

The male shrugged; he was gone now anyway, and so Himchan could only hope that this newcomer would be much more engaging.

Boldly he knocked, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

As he continued to wait, he glanced down at the welcoming gifts he had to offer, which happened to be a bottle of his favourite Côtes du Rhône and a box of mixed chocolates.

However, no matter how big his smile was and how luxurious his gifts were, the door in which he needed to open was beginning to show its stubbornness.

After waiting for what seemed hours, as even the sun began to bid its farewells, Himchan decided it was time he did the same, and so after dashing briefly back into his own home, he scribbled out a note on some scrap paper and left both the wine and chocolates by the door along with the note, hoping no one would come along and take it as a lucky free offer in the middle of the night.

Knocking on the door one last time, as if that single glimmer of hope that maybe Jongup woke up from his nap or got out of his bath would be enough for the door to swing open, Himchan had to face he had been defeated, and could only guess that the male was out, most probably too busy celebrating his new home with his friends than to deal with the intrusive, strange man next door.

With slumped shoulders and a slightly heavy heart, he pushed his way back into his own flat and went straight for the balcony with a packet of cigarettes, feeling a sudden surge of exhaustion and setback, he leaned over the decrepit railing and watched the bustling streets below.

Sometimes it seemed like the whole world was moving forwards apart from him, as if time wasn’t on his side and he was suspended in a constant cycle of the same thing everyday.

He liked his job, he liked his home, he liked his friends, but in this perfectly painted picture something was missing, and Himchan could never quite put his finger on what that unidentified ‘something’ was.

Maybe it was the absence of a lover or children, or maybe he was simply trying too hard and needed things to come to him instead of him constantly searching.

Searching was exhausting, especially when you didn’t know what it was you were searching for.

A figure slumbered out onto the balcony next to Himchan’s in which he only just managed to capture in the corner of his eye, causing him to quickly snap his head in both a mix of delight and surprise as he was faced with his locked-up neighbour who seemed unaware of Himchan’s presence.

Swiftly and carelessly Himchan disposed his cigarette so that he could open his mouth without having the killer between his lips in the way. “Hey there, I’m Himchan, you just moved in yesterday, right?”

Of course Himchan was blatantly aware that Jongup had moved in the previous day, but he wanted to make it sound like he hadn’t been stalking him for the majority of his moving-in.

Slowly, as if he couldn’t quite believe Himchan had spoken, the young man turned his head and faced the elder with not a single sign of joy or happiness, instead holding a perfectly crafted pokerface.

“Yeah,” he gave a curt nod of his head, “Jongup,” then turned back to face forward, as if the rundown block of flats opposite were more interesting than human interaction.

Himchan tried not to let a frown shown, instead he crossed his arms and leaned his hip onto the black railings that separated Himchan from a dangerous fall.

“I, uh, left some gifts for you on your doorstep...I tried calling for you but you must have been busy,” he explained, hoping that was the case and it wasn't the fact that Jongup was trying to purposely avoid him.

The newcomer simply nodded his head, not tearing his eyes away from whatever it was he was so captivated by. “Thanks, I’ll go get it...my doorbell isn’t working.”

Trying to not let the words ‘but I knocked’ slip from his mouth, Himchan straightened himself and spoke instead, “It’s fine, I’ll get them,” and promptly went back out to the front of the flats to grab at the wine and chocolates which, to his luck, hadn’t been at the hands of any passing thieves.

When he returned back to the balconies with the bottle and chocolates, he held out his hands to offer them to the younger male, whose attention was finally brought to him. Hesitantly he leaned over the small gap between them, which although miniscule, could still lead to disastrous events if either was to fall between it, and grabbed at the chocolates, but completely dismissed the wine.

“Sorry, I don’t drink,” he said simply, not holding a look of apology but still wearing a blank face in it’s place.

Himchan kept a hold of the bottle, bringing it back to his side.

“It’s no problem, I hope you enjoy your time here Jongup-ah,” he stated with his warmest, most welcoming smile, in which Jongup barely seemed to have noticed.

Well, more wine for me then I guess.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

The aroma of coffee beans and milk made Himchan feel at home as he sat with his own americano between his fingertips, his good friend Yongguk sitting opposite with a latte in which he casually brought to his lips.

While people came and left the commonly used coffee shop, Himchan spoke about the events of the previous day and his discovery of Jongup’s hermit-like attitude to the world to Yongguk’s listening ears.

“He’s not very welcoming, and definitely not any fun…”

Yongguk finally gave some signs of life with a roll of his eyes and a sigh from his lips. “He’s not there to have fun, Himchan, he moved into that flat so he could be closer to work.”

“What does he do?” Himchan found himself asking.

The elder shrugged, taking another intake of the warm liquid which he had possession of, letting it run down his throat and warm-up his insides.

“Said something about a bookshop…”

Himchan raised an eyebrow at the other. “That seems a drastic thing to do just for working in a bookshop.”

“He only got the job recently apparently. His character reference just said he was a calm guy who wants to keep to himself, he gets financial support from his brother as well so he’s okay rentwise,” the elder rose his gaze from his hands to Himchan, “Please don’t scare him off, he’s the best I’ve had in a long while.”

Himchan dismissed his friend’s word with a chuckle and a shake of his head, knowing that if Yongguk’s words were true then Jongup was indeed the best tenant the landlord had come across in a long while.

In an attempt to change the subject, Himchan flickered his eyes from the table to his messy-haired friend. “How’s Jisu?”

Annoyingly, judging on first appearances you would have guessed that out of the two, Himchan was the one who had his life written out perfectly and was speaking by the script, from his organised apartment to his well-kept hair and manner, however assumptions couldn’t be more wrong. Not only was Yongguk an amazing landlord, but he also had an excellent job and a beautiful fiance.

It wasn’t as if Himchan was doing too bad himself, he also had a good job, though it wasn’t as high-profile as Yongguk’s (who was a journalist on current affairs), it brought in the cash and kept him busy, which was all twenty-seven year old could ask for.

But it was as if Yongguk was walking down a serene path which was clear and smooth, and Himchan was being left behind in the fog of his own uncertain future. He could already see it: Yongguk in a few years time would be in a big house with his wife and children, perfectly at home and comfortable in his own shoes.

Himchan, however, would still be home alone, with his great job and great friends all moving on without him.

Even though he did it often, Himchan hated this: sitting down, pitying himself when he was perfectly fine.

“She’s fine,” Yongguk’s features glowed whenever he spoke of his lover, despite them having been together for a long time, the happiness that lit up inside of Yongguk still burned, even if it wasn’t as bright as it had first been. “I’m looking forward to spoiling her at the wedding, I don’t think she’ll be expecting it.”

“I still need to get your engagement present,” Himchan chuckled at the unimpressed look the other gave him.

“Maybe I should ask someone else to be my best-man…”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would,” Yongguk smirked, and they both knew that Himchan was the one-and-only man for the job.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you a really sappy present.”

Yongguk groaned, “Himchan…”

“What about those things you can hang on your door? ‘Where There is Love, There is Life’,” Himchan spread out his hands and mocked a terrible French accent, trying to get his friend to imagine the incredibly cheesy quote hanging in his home for all to see.

“If you dare...” Yongguk warned the younger, until the two found themselves filling the cafe with the noise of their raw laughter.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

After parting ways, Himchan headed back to his flat, a dark smudge amongst a flock of ravens, but content nevertheless.

Both himself and Yongguk had decided that when both had time off, it was probably safe not to spend too much time with each other when the eldest had a fiance waiting at home for him.

“She gets suspicious,” Yongguk chuckled into his mug, though it was no surprise to Himchan, as he was aware that his and Yongguk’s relationship was like two sides of a penny.

When they tried to change the subject onto Himchan however, he could only laugh when the to-be-married man asked how his own love life was doing.

“Hectic, so many girls tripping over each other for me,” Himchan had jokingly said in reply, but it wasn’t a complete lie. It was true, Himchan had plenty admirers, but office workers and models weren’t the type he was seeing his future with, and he definitely wasn’t looking for a hookup or short-term fling.

Arriving to his door, Himchan was pleasantly surprised to be met with Jongup once more, who was busying himself with a few boxes that he was taking into his flat.

Stepping forward almost cautiously, Himchan offered, “Hey, need any help?”

The younger stopped halfway through one of his journeys, a few boxes sat beside the railings on the right, he turned to look at Himchan with a blankness in his eyes which reflected the burning orange of dusk.

“I’m okay, thanks...and thanks for the chocolates, they were nice,” his monotone voice was barely audible, yet it hooked Himchan and seemed so much more unambiguous compared to the roaring cars Himchan had grown so accustomed to.

And then he noticed something, poking out of the collar of Jongup's shirt, black ink staining his skin.

A tattoo.

Himchan had no idea how he hadn't noticed beforehand, but he found himself quite taken back - they weren't just any tattoos, they were big and dark and obvious, though hidden by the younger's clothes. There was another as well, on top of his hand, covering the majority of the expanse of skin, and it made the older wonder how many more he had underneath the fabric of his clothes.

Jongup said nothing more as he went back and fro, grabbing boxes and moving like he had been programmed, until there were no more boxes left, and he shut out both the world and Himchan with the shutting of his front door.


	2. Ibuprofen

Himchan blew across the streets like a wish from a dandelion, except the wish was to get back home as soon as possible and throw some caffeine down his throat.

The bustling of the streets and pollution in the air pushed and shoved at Himchan like he was barely existent, and it was only when the sound of some distant hip-hop song started to blare into his ears that he was finally dragged out of his haze.

As if his eyes and ears were trained to single out this person in particular, Himchan was drawn to a small crowd in which surrounded a single street performer, who danced like the whole world was watching.

From start to finish, Jongup’s body flowed like his soul was pouring out for everyone to take in, and Himchan could do nothing but be one of those observers in the crowd who was hypnotised by his pure talent. Arms, legs, torso, head, all the parts of Jongup moved like they had been put there to do nothing but perform in one of the hustling streets of Seoul.

When the music finished and his dancing was put to an abrupt stop, the crowd that had formed gave their worthless pieces of metal in the bucket the young street-performer held out, before dispersing like the smoke hanging in the air.

As Jongup started to pack his small speakers into a rugged rucksack, Himchan stepped forward and threw in his own cash into the plastic bucket, bringing the attention of his neighbour with the clashing of coins.

“That was amazing,” Himchan admired the younger, who looked up at the dazzled male for a few more, paused minutes before returning back to his packing with a meagre ‘thanks’ passing his lips.

“I didn’t know you danced,” he added, slipping his hands into his pockets.

Jongup simply shrugged, heaving his rucksack over his shoulder, he picked up the bucket which held quite a lot of money and looked Himchan in the eye. “You don’t really know me, I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

Thrown off slightly, Himchan could do nothing but watch as Jongup sauntered away, before calling after his turned back, “Do you wanna grab a drink?” In which Jongup simply raised a hand in dismissal, disappearing into the crowd.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

Once arrived at his home, Himchan fiddled with the necklace he held in his digits.

As he had watched Jongup evaporate into the bustling bodies of the busy city, unaware to the younger, a wooden necklace which was hanging freely on his rucksack fell onto the grimy floor below him, and like the saviour he was, Himchan dashed forward to grab for it before it was trampled on by people too caught-up in their own worlds.

And so he found himself once again, standing and fumbling in front of the door he had become so well acquainted to, knocking on it firmly with faith that Jongup wouldn’t blame his absence on the non-existent doorbell.

Almost surprisingly, the door swung open, revealing Jongup who still hadn’t even taken his jacket off yet.

“Yes?” He asked with a tilt of his head, eyes focused on Himchan’s face instead of the necklace between his fingertips.

Taken aback by the immediate answer, Himchan felt his brain go to mush causing the words he produced to come out as a sloppy and disarrayed sentence. “Your necklace, I mean, it was on the floor, you dropped it,” and before he could make himself look any more idiotic he thrusted the thread of beads to its rightful owner.

Eyes glancing down slowly at the object, just as leisurely he took the necklace away from Himchan’s care, wrapping his long fingers around it carefully as if it was made out of glass.

“Thank you,” he didn’t look up nor bow, but instead began to shut the door, before Himchan found his body moving so swiftly that he didn’t have time to process what he was doing, as he blocked the door from closing any further.

Throat dry, he tried to force his words out, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but, uh, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to come over to eat? As like, a welcome...or maybe even out? I know some good restaurants…”

It seemed to take a while for Jongup to let the words sink into his brain, as he stared at Himchan with a face barren of emotion, until his mouth opened and words Himchan neither expected nor wanted to hear came out. “Sorry, but do you mind just giving me some space? I have stuff I’d like to do,” and with Himchan still in shock, Jongup snapped the door shut.

Himchan stared at the door he had become well acquainted to.

Well then…

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

A knock on the door caused Himchan’s attention to drift away from the barely-funny comedy he was watching, and to the confusing question on who was asking for him at such an hour. It was just coming up to dinner time and the male had given himself the leisure of the entire sofa, stretching all four limbs so that he managed to fill the space made for two, while constantly switching between his phone and TV which managed to drag out the occasional dry laugh from him.

Guessing it was most probably Yongguk, Himchan slid out of his nest of comfort and sluggishly made his way to the door, opening it up to be met with someone who was definitely not Yongguk.

“Hey,”Jongup didn’t look up from Himchan’s feet, though his eyes wandered slightly, his head seemed to refuse to follow.

“Hey,” Himchan had no idea how to reply, especially when it had only been a mere few hours ago when the younger had asked him to basically fuck off.

Showing all clear signs of uncomfortableness, Jongup scratched the back of his neck and tried to relax his posture, “I’m sorry for what I said, that was kind of...yeah...so I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner? To show my gratitude…”

Himchan stood confused for a few seconds, trying to understand what it was his neighbour had just offered, until finally the words started to make sense and it all clicked.

Dinner, he’s inviting me for dinner as an apology for being such an arsehole…

He almost felt like laughing on the spot.

Instead, a smile stretched across his face, and he nodded his head, trying not to let the slight bubbles of delight seep through his manner. “Dinner...dinner sounds good…”

With that said, Jongup let the elder quickly slip into more acceptable attire, before they were both entering the flat which was identical to Himchan’s, though much more bare.

“I was already cooking, just, uh, sit yourself down,” the young male awkwardly gestured to the mundane sofa, which sat in front of a sad-looking oak table and a TV which seemed almost as old as the sofa and table combined. Without complaint though, Himchan sat himself down on the sofa and let his eyes wander effortlessly to the screen in front of him, trying not to let himself become too loose while also looking comfortable.

It didn't take long until Jongup returned with what seemed to be two bowls of ramen, or at least, that’s what he said it was. In silence the two ate side-by-side, Himchan desperately trying to distract the taste of the noodles by whatever was being played in front of him, though he still managed to fail at ignoring the texture, which felt more like rubbery shoelaces than edible food.

Attempting to be polite however, Himchan finished his bowl completely and gave a worried glance at Jongup, who had already finished his own serving and had seemed pretty satisfied with what sat in his stomach, compared to Himchan’s which was already starting to complain at him.

“So...just you?” The elder made the first move on attempting to break the weighing silence, watching as Jongup let himself sink into the sofa and relax, as if Himchan wasn’t there at all.

“Yeah, and I’m not planning on having anyone else,” he replied with a cold undertone, not taking his eyes off the TV.

That was one thing Himchan noticed about his peculiar neighbour: he was horrendous at holding eye contact, and often forced his eyes to look at anything but the person he was talking to. But Himchan took it lightly; he had a feeling that Jongup was unaware of this particular trait.

“What about where you used to live?”

“With my brother in the countryside...I have two older brothers, you?” Finishing the sentence with a question, he flickered his wandering eyes to the person he was asking before just as quickly snatching them away.

Himchan couldn’t help but smile. “An older sister, I adore her.”

Just the mention of his sibling made his heart begin to ache a little inside his chest, as he hadn’t seen his sister in a long while and that led to the homesickness starting to kick-in.

Attempting to change the subject, Himchan’s line-of-sight landed on the flimsy bookshelf that stood out-of-place against one of the many insipid walls, which seemed to be the only characteristic and inanimate objects in the entire room.

“You like reading?” He asked, nodding his head in the direction of the few books placed on the oversized shelves.

A slight sense of odd accomplishment filled Himchan when Jongup turned his head a little to look in the same direction, before he nodded his head firmly. “Yeah, I work in a bookshop at the moment, my reading sort of varies…”

“How so?” Himchan inquired, indeed noticing the variety of book sizes, from tall, thin ones to stubby, thick ones, all messily organized in their places.

“I read lots of different genres, from manga books to books that question the meaning of life.”

Himchan didn’t know whether he imagined a smile sneaking its way onto the younger’s face or not, but he continued anyway with his own smile broadening. “That’s quite a jump, do you have a particular genre you prefer?”

Jongup cocked his head from side to side, rolling the ball of thought inside his mysterious head as he tried to decide before coming up with an answer, “When I’m in the mood, definitely the ones that question the meaning of life.”

Himchan laughed, because he guessed just as much.

“I don’t read much to be honest,” the elder confessed, shuffling a little so that he was more comfortable, “I mean I read newspapers and magazines, newspapers to, well, keep up with the news and magazines are just so I keep up with my job, I guess…”

“What do you do?”

“I work in a modelling agency, mostly as a secretary, but sometimes I go for the odd modelling job when the opportunity comes by,” Himchan explained, hoping that he didn’t come across as a stuck-up, arrogant model, which many people he introduced himself to seemed to jump to the conclusion that he was.

And then Jongup turned to look at him.

Properly.

“You know...I think I recognise you actually,” the younger said thoughtfully with a slight tilt of his head.

Himchan couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not,” Jongup smiled, standing up without hesitation and exiting the living room while Himchan chuckled at the situation. After some audible shuffling around, Jongup returned and held out in front of the male what could only be, like he had said, Himchan modelling in full glory.

The elder didn’t know whether or not he wanted to laugh or cringe, so he did a mix of both as he gently took the fragile piece of paper from the younger’s hands, weakened from age but still clear. It showed Himchan on the front cover, and looking at both the date and Himchan’s awful hair, he could see it was a magazine from four years ago, when Himchan was a young man trying to scrape the barrel for money. But although his hair was atrocious and his modelling skills in desperate need of improvement, Himchan couldn’t deny that the photo was a good one, and could see why it had been featured on the front cover.

Shaking his head and still laughing, Himchan returned the piece to it’s owner, who took it and left, leaving Himchan to reminisce on the memories of his youthful days, which in reality weren’t that many years ago, though it felt like it had been decades.

When Jongup returned, Himchan offered to get drinks from his flat, however when the younger reminded him of his non-alcoholic lifestyle, they escaped to the balcony instead where Himchan asked for permission to have a smoke which Jongup granted him, denying the offer of one the killers.

It seemed Jongup didn’t smoke either, though he had no issue with standing beside Himchan as he did so.

For a few moments, neither said anything in the darkness, which grew as the night went by, leaving the stars to glow brighter and the orange at the end of Himchan’s cigarette to grow stronger with each intake of his desperate breath.

“Thank you for the meal,” Himchan commented out into the enveloping nightfall, though in reality he was thanking Jongup more for his time and companionship than the ghastly ‘meal’ he had been given.

It felt like the other male wasn’t there anymore as he said nothing, but Himchan could still hear his steady breathing, so incredibly clear over the distant roaring of cars and trains and other people all continuing on with their own lives.

It was all that mattered, Himchan didn’t need Jongup to say anything, because somehow he knew that the younger was listening.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

Work was busy the next day. That along with the unexpected heatwave created a disgruntled, exhausted Himchan who was looking forward to his empty flat with a glass of chilled water and trash TV.

When at work, Himchan was usually always on the ball, keeping up with demands and the constant running back and forth to places and people who needed paperwork, and that day was no different, except from a pesky thought that kept invading it’s way into the secretary’s line of thought: why was Jongup holding onto an article that was four years old?

To what Himchan could recall, the magazine wasn’t anything special, and even if it was, it seemed Jongup only had the front cover, lowering its overall value if it had any at all. But Himchan was sure that it had nothing to do with money; he remembered clearly seeing the magazine in cheap newsagents and bus stations, nervous at the fact that so many people could see his face so clearly and regularly throughout the day.

So why did Jongup have it? Maybe it had sentimental value.

Even as Himchan headed home, the thought rattled him on the crowded train and irritated him alongside the glaring sun, causing his want to be home as soon as possible to increase.

Once he was home, however, he was greeted with yet another pest, except this one had a mouth, making it all the more annoying.

It was Junhong, sitting at Himchan’s doorstep like a lost puppy in a tank top and long shorts, his skateboard situated by his side like his trusty henchman. At the sight of the elder, he practically jumped onto his feet, striding towards Himchan who walked past him and towards his only interest, the door.

“Why are you here and not at home, Junhong-ah?” Himchan asked in an exasperated tone as he fumbled through his rucksack for his keys, desperate to get inside his home and out of the white shirt he was wearing, which clung to his body like Junhong’s bothersome presence.

Junhong was the son of one of Himchan’s friends at work, and somehow, they had become somewhat ‘friends’. Himchan had no idea how or why, but Junhong seemed to take a liking to him from the moment they met, and unfortunately Himchan was too heartful to abandon the relationship they had accidently built between them.

“I can’t go back, I need somewhere to stay,” he explained vaguely, but Himchan had heard it all too many times.

“Ran away again?” He asked, his voice sounding as tiresome as he felt.

“Yeah, but it’s for real this time,” Junhong sounded certain, but Himchan just rolled his eyes. Finally he found his keys, and before the college student could stop him, he was turning the key and entering his flat.

“You’re always running away, go home,” Himchan grumbled.

“But hyung-”

Feeling the younger take a step inside, Himchan whipped around, facing the taller male and letting out a sigh. “It’s hot, I’m tired, your mum I know for a fact is exhausted, I don’t care what’s going on with her boyfriend, just go home,” he said sternly.

Junhong was about to open his mouth again, before footsteps were heard and suddenly walking behind Junhong was Jongup, who despite the blistering heat, wore a shirt with sleeves and jeans, seemingly unbothered by the sun. Junhong did nothing but rudely watch the other’s every moment, from the small greeting that was passed between himself and Himchan to when he entered his flat, up until the door was shut, and he turned his focus back on Himchan.

“He was creepy,” Junhong whispered, and Himchan rolled his eyes once again.

“He just moved in, look, here,” Himchan dived into his pocket, bringing out all the change he had, which was not too bad of an amount, and holding it out for Junhong. “Go get yourself a drink to cool down, from both the heat and your little rebellion, then go home, seriously, or I’ll call your mum.”

For a split second it looked like Junhong was going to retaliate once more, but luckily with a sigh of defeat, he took the money from the elder’s palm and grabbed his skateboard at his feat.

“Thanks, hyung,” he mumbled under his breath, turning on his heels and sulking away.

Once Himchan watched the younger walk all the way to the stairs, confident he was going to do as he was told, Himchan was about to shut the door and finally get changed, to then be interrupted by the door next door swinging open, revealing a smartly dressed Jongup who stepped out of his home and locked the door.

“You look smart,” Himchan couldn’t help but let the compliment slip from his mouth, as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, knowing he wanted to get on with relaxing but also not helping his curiosity on where the other was heading-off to at such an awkward time.

“Thanks,” Jongup muttered, even quieter than usual, he didn’t seem happy at all. Even though he hardly smiled at all since Himchan had met him, the face he wore at that moment was different from his usual ‘not-smiling’ face, he seemed almost ashamed and sad-looking.

“Work related?”

“Yeah,” Jongup answered shortly, throwing his keys into his pocket and walking past Himchan in a quickened pace. But he wasn’t going to avoid Himchan totally, as the latter called after him, “Have you ever thought about modelling?”

It wasn’t a random question, ever since last night on the balcony, Himchan had plenty of time to admire the youngers physique. The tattoos were unique, and although Himchan could see Jongup struggling to get a contract with people who were sensitive about their public image and such, he could also see plenty of agencies who would die for someone who looked as striking and sharp as Jongup did.

The male stopped in his tracks, seemingly frozen on the spot, before stating to the empty path in front of him, “I don’t like my photo being taken,” and then continuing on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here was actually a few things i missed out on this chapter, but i didnt want the chapter to be tooooo long so i cut them out ;p
> 
> anyway where do you think jongup is going?
> 
> and why has he got a magazine cutout from four years ago?
> 
> idk so dont ask me
> 
> love you and stay happy
> 
> Xx Vict0ry xX


	3. Diclofenac

Jongup didn’t return back until late after leaving in his smart clothes, and he continued to do this throughout the few weeks that passed, leaving in the afternoon on Mondays and Thursdays and returning in the depths of the night.

There had been a few odd times where Himchan was still awake when his neighbour returned, but there was only one account in which he actually saw Jongup, and whatever it was he was doing so late took a toll on him.

It was a Thursday night, and Himchan felt too awake to sleep, despite his eyes burning with fatigue and his limbs feeling heavy, he leaned on his balcony and let the cool breeze of the night sweep across his skin.

And then the silence of the night was gently interrupted by the sound of tears, and Himchan turned his head to look at the balcony that perfectly mirrored his own.

It was Jongup, leaning against the bars which contained him, hunched over with his head in his hands.

He was trembling, shaking as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

It hit Himchan at that moment how upset the younger had to be to look like he was physically in pain, but he said nothing, guessing Jongup didn’t know he could see him, and so keeping his mouth shut and letting the young man cry into the late hours.

All these things just made Himchan more and more interested in what Jongup was up to, even though it was obviously something deeply personal, it almost saddened Himchan to see that whatever it was Jongup was trying to deal with, he was trying to deal with it alone.

So that’s how Himchan found himself standing in a bookshop in his lunch break, looking at books he didn’t really care about, but pretending to do so in order to get closer to one of the staff member’s, in particular a certain young male with tattoos.

When Jongup started adding some books to the ‘travelling section’, Himchan saw it as the perfect opportunity to make his move, and so as smoothly as he could (so not smooth at all), he side-stepped his way towards the male.

“Interesting books you’re stacking there,” Himchan hummed, tilting his head to look at the books which didn’t look interesting at all.

To no surprise, Jongup saw right through his bullshit and let out a slither of a smile. “Funny,” he said simply, continuing at his job diligently.

“Have you ever...thought about writing your own book?” Himchan asked, noticing how Jongup paused his actions momentarily in thought, before continuing.

“Yeah actually, becoming an editor has been something I wanted to do since I was younger, or even an author, but I think it’s too late now.”

“It’s not too late, how old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

Himchan scoffed. “Then it’s definitely not too late, you are still totally okay to apply for college or something and get some writing experience.”

Jongup slowly shook his head, not stopping at his work, despite speaking more in the few sentences he had given Himchan than all the words he had said put together since they had met. “I’m not too good with crowds,” he answered.

Himchan found that slightly hard to believe, especially with his street performances, but said nothing on the matter and instead suggested, “What about online classes then?”

Jongup shrugged. “Maybe.”

Frowning, Himchan decided to bring up the subject of modelling once more, just out of interest.

“You still wouldn’t take up modelling?”

Jongup shook his head, placing the last of the books on it’s rightful shelf.

“Yeah, I’m sure, sorry but I need to get back to work now,” he dismissed the elder quickly, turning on his feet and scuttling away into the depths of bookshelves.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

Himchan sipped carefully at his coffee, being sure not to spill any of its precious contents as he listened to what Junhong had to say.

It wasn’t a frequent thing, but from time to time when Junhong finished his day at college early then he would manage to catch Himchan on the train home and the two would grab a coffee, usually with Himchan paying.

“Has anyone shown any interest yet?” He asked as he took a slice of his waffle, looking at Himchan with wide eyes full of anticipation.

The elder could do nothing but give him the honest truth though, as he shook his head. “You need to be patient, and anyway, your job in the cafe is doing you just fine, don’t you think?”

Junhong groaned at the mention of his workplace, taking another desperate slice as if to rid his mind of the thought. Although the student worked hard at his Performance Arts college, when it came to any other form of work he couldn’t stand it, even though both his mum and Himchan had explained that the work experience would be good, he was still opposed to it.

“It’s boring,” he mumbled with his mouth full, before swallowing his mouthful and sharply changing the subject, “How’s that creepy guy next door by the way?”

Himchan had to let Junhong’s words register in his mind for a few minutes before he understood what the younger meant. “Jongup? He’s actually not that bad you know, a bit reserved, but I like a challenge,” Himchan shrugged, hoping it didn’t sound like he was trying to win a prize instead of a friend.

“I don’t know hyung, he just seemed...strange.”

“Well, everyone seems strange to you, no wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.”

Junhong frowned, “That was uncalled for hyung, and anyway I don’t see you with anyone at the moment.”

Himchan couldn’t help but let a smirk stretch it’s way across his face, lifting his mug nonchalantly to his lips as he answered simply, “That’s only because I choose not to at the moment.”

Junhong scoffed, shoving the last piece of waffle in his mouth. “Yeah, right.”

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

After spending longer than he had planned gossiping with Junhong, Himchan hadn’t planned on dinner and so grabbed a takeaway from the Chinese around the corner.

The best thing about living alone, Himchan gathered, was that you could eat whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, without having to console with anyone beforehand.

Stepping into his flat with his inexpensive meal hanging on his fingertips, Himchan threw off his shoes and slung the plastic bag onto the table, looking forward to his chowmein and trash TV, a dangerous combination.

However just as he was taking his work jacket off, the sound of multiple items crashing startled him through the thin walls of his home, and he looked around his surroundings confusedly before gathering his thoughts and realising that the noise came from next door.

Without anymore time to lose, he squeezed his feet back into his work shoes and rushed out the door, going straight to the door in which he was sure the crash had come from, which happened to be Jongup’s.

Not caring if he woke the neighbours up as dusk began to settle, Himchan knocked on the door a little too frantically, until it cracked open slightly, only revealing a small section of Jongup’s already unreadable face.

“Are you okay? I heard something breaking,” he asked, not bothering to conceal any part of his clear worry.

“I’m fine, you can leave,” Jongup spoke even more gently than usual, as if every word he used in his sentence were being chosen carefully, and almost just as carefully he began to close the door, being only unsuccessful though as Himchan wedged his foot into the door, refusing to be given such an answer.

“I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re okay,” the elder insisted.

“It’s none of your business-”

“It is,” Himchan refused to be pushed away, especially when the younger was trying so desperately to get rid of Himchan in such a fragile and gentle way.

Something was wrong, not just with whatever had happened but with Jongup himself.

It was the way he spoke like glass would break, with an indescribable heaviness that made it feel like something had shattered inside the younger.

For a moment, Himchan was sure Jongup was going to slam the door through his foot, but was pleasantly surprised when instead the door creaked open, revealing the other standing with his head and shoulders weighed down as if someone was pushing on them.

He looked defeated.

Without questioning his neighbour, Himchan stepped past the broken man and made his way into his living area, which showed much more destruction than he had expected. Books were thrown in all directions as if a hurricane had made it’s way through the living room, while the coffee table was flipped over as well as a set of drawers which had crushed a glass vase full of roses that were previously sitting on top, the fragments of beautiful crystal embedded in the carpet and the roses slowly beginning their wilting without their source of water.

But still, Himchan said nothing, and instead left the wrecked room and ventured briefly into his own home, grabbing his vacuum and dust-pan-and-brush to then return, beginning his work of cleaning the place up while Jongup sat on the sofa and stared at the wall in front of him with lifeless eyes.

Himchan didn’t mind that the younger didn’t offer to help, let alone even say anything, as his neighbour instead did all the work. He started by picking out the pieces of glass carefully, throwing them in the bin, and then going over the whole carpet with the vacuum to make sure no sharp bits were left for any unfortunate foot to step on.

The roses weren’t too damaged and so he placed them in a temporary container, admiring their strength and hoping that they wouldn’t die after fighting such a hard battle. An attempt to mop up the water wasn’t very successful as the carpet had already soaked up the majority of the liquid, but since it was just water Himchan was sure it wouldn’t stain. He then went on to collect all the books scattered around the area, placing them on the shelves more-or-less how he had seen them when he had last visited, though Jongup made no attempt to correct him.

Once he was finally done, with Jongup sitting in the exact same position as when Himchan had started, the elder returned his cleaning tools back to his own home, and then returned once again with a Chinese takeaway in his hands.

Without a single passing word between either of them, Himchan placed the food onto the now upright coffee table, in which Jongup hadn’t even have seemed to notice was back in it’s original position.

“Eat,” was all the elder said when Jongup continued to be unresponsive, not even sparing a glance at the plastic bag which was supposed to be empty and already in Himchan’s stomach at that point. His words seemed to fall on deaf ears though, as Jongup continued to sink further into himself, as if unaware of his surroundings.

Having a feeling he wasn’t going to get a response from the younger anytime soon, he instead continued to speak in order to fill the silence. “Don’t trash the place again, or I’ll tell Yongguk-ah,” he explained, and although he tried to hold an authoritative tone in order to show the younger that what he had done was bad, his voice was still softened for some unknown reason to him.

Although what Jongup had done was stupid and reckless, Himchan knew that there had been something upsetting his neighbour since the day he moved in, and even though he tried to show that he was there and holding an open hand, Jongup seemed incredibly reluctant to take it.

He wanted to know why?

Why was Jongup leaving in the afternoon on Monday’s and Thursday’s and returning so late? Why did he seem so upset when he came back? Why did he seem so unnaturally reserved and isolated within himself? Why did it look like he had no friends, when he was at the prime age for going out and having fun?

It was none of Himchan’s goddamn business, but he just wanted to know why.

Yet still, Jongup sat, with moribund eyes and chapped lips, his mind a battleground which Himchan was observing from an unhelpful distance.

Just let me help you, he wanted to say so desperately, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth, and instead he left, hoping Jongup had at least heard his words and would eat the food Himchan had given him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter chapter, sorry im so bad at having even lengths of chapters, it annoys me idk why
> 
> i plan them out and they still turn out like this what is life
> 
> have a nice day
> 
> dont trash ur house
> 
> Xx Vict0ry xX


	4. Naproxen

The weekend came fairly quickly, which was a relief for Himchan, as it seemed like his work had decided it would test him on his limits by being nothing but chaotic for his entire working time. But as if he didn’t have enough trouble in his work life, it seemed his home life was going to treat him no better, as he still had a troublesome neighbour creeping up in his head.

It wasn’t as if Jongup had done anything since he trashed his house and Himchan had to go and help him out, but then that was the exact problem: he hadn’t done anything.  
It was a late Sunday evening, the sun was saying it's farewells and the sky was a mix of melted orange, red and blue. Jongup had been successful at making Himchan worry, as he hadn’t left the flat at all the previous day as far as he was aware of, and had done the same the following day as well.

As Himchan admired the slowly descending sun, he noticed that the man who had been causing him so much grief was attempting to do the same, as he sat on a chair and gazed out into the distance, completely withdrawn, as if his body and his mind were also flickering away like the star in the sky.

For a while, Himchan said nothing.

He admired the sun, then he admired Jongup a little.

His mouth opened, and he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. “Do you wanna head out? Just for a walk…”

Jongup was unresponsive, but Himchan expected nothing less and was almost ready to kick away the last remains of his hope and head back inside his flat in defeat.

“Sure,” the voice took the male by surprise, and he turned his attention back to the lifeless body next door.

He couldn’t tell if Jongup had actually spoken or if he had finally started to hallucinate, until the younger turned his head calmly and looked at Himchan.

Right in the eyes.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

   
Like Himchan had said in his offer, he planned to do nothing but have a leisurely stroll with the other, nothing more, nothing less, and if Jongup didn’t want to talk about why he had tried to abolish his house, then Himchan had to convince himself that that was okay.

It wasn’t about him wanting to know anymore, or to stick his nose into the juicy drama of his neighbour’s life, it was about making sure that Jongup was okay and to know that there was an ear waiting to listen.

It was painful to see Jongup when he was upset, and having seen it many times in the darkness of the night, Himchan was fed-up of being a bystander and feeling the clench in his chest as the younger sobbed his heart out.

“Thanks for your help,” those were the first words Jongup spoke as they walked inside the park, where the trees were lined with vermillion and the only sound of chatter was between the birds.  “I’m not good at controlling my anger,” he continued, hanging his head low.

“You were angry?” Himchan asked, hoping he wasn’t coming across too pushy as they approached the playing area, drifting over to the swings and sitting themselves down next to each other without a word of discussion otherwise.

“Yeah,” the younger mumbled between his lips, gently swinging backwards and forwards while kicking the dirt at his feet.

“Well, instead of taking it out on your home, why don’t you just console with someone?”

“My problems...can’t be talked about…”

Himchan was ready to argue with the younger’s words, because if his problems were enough to make him trash his own home in anger, then surely they had the potential to be talked about. But one small glance at Jongup’s face, and he knew that arguing with him would be fruitless.

As the evening grew darker, Himchan sneaked his phone out of his pocket and silently stole a few pictures of Jongup, even though it was dark and the photos were grainy and unrecognisable, the outline of Jongup’s facial structure against the glowing sunset was what made Himchan slip his phone back into his pocket with a smile.

It felt like hours had passed before Jongup spoke again. “Have you ever been close to fame? As a model?”

Himchan thought the question was an odd one, and one he especially didn’t expect to be coming from Jongup, but he answered as truthfully as he could anyway, “Yeah, actually...but I turned the chance of fame down when I had the chance,” he explained.

Although the thought of fame and special treatment made Himchan fairly excited to the day, he knew that if he had walked down that path, he would have gotten bored with it just as he was getting bored with his current life. It didn’t appeal to Himchan in any special way either; having to constantly worry about his self-image and being recognised on the street seemed tiresome as well as bothersome.

“But wouldn’t you have liked to have been different? To stand-out and be recognised?”

Himchan had no idea where the sudden flow of interest in Himchan’s modelling came from, but he took the fact that the younger was talking so freely as a blessing.

“Not really, it seems too much of a hassle...I like a bit of attention like any normal person, but I really like to keep to myself, when it comes down to it.”

The flow of conversation paused, before Jongup said in a hushed whisper, “I think there’s more to life than living.”

Himchan sighed. “I’m pretty happy with living at the moment.”

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

   
The next day and Himchan brushed an accidental encounter with Jongup while on his trip back to work, which was a rare occasion at it’s finest, especially with the fact that Jongup didn’t quicken his pace in order to get rid of the elder who ran up alongside him.

“Hey! How are-” Himchan was instantly cut off once he got a look at Jongup’s face, and his smile flipped a full one hundred and eighty degrees.

“What happened?” He asked, stopping in his tracks and having to grip onto the other’s arm in order for him to do the same. A big, ugly bruise had appeared on the younger’s eye, who also wore a cut on his lower lip to go with it.

“I walked into a pole,” he shrugged, “It’s no big deal.”

Bullshit.

Himchan knew Jongup most probably thought he was a pain in the backside, but he also expected him to understand that Himchan was anything but naive.

Deciding not to push any further on the subject, the two soundlessly drifted back home, only making small conversation which Himchan was all too familiar with.

As they were walking, a face in the crowd of bustling people surrounding them caught Himchan’s eye, and as they approached he greeted the man with a pat on the back and a nod to his girlfriend.

“Yoo Youngjae, how are you? Damn, you look worn-out,” he chuckled, the young man’s girlfriend joining in with agreement.

“Speak for yourself, ahjussi,” the younger laughed when Himchan slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

“My lifestyle may be ageing me, but I’m not that old.”

“Not yet.”

“If I’m going to be old then you’re coming down with me.”

“I’d rather abandon ship to be honest,” Youngjae laughed, hooking arms with his lover. Unsurprisingly, she was beautiful in every shape and form, and gave a delicate smile and bow towards Himchan.

“This is Mina,” Youngjae introduced, “Mina, this is Himchan, my old workmate.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, voice velvety.

“You too,” Himchan couldn’t help but feel a mix of happiness and slight jealousy for his friend. There had been a time when they were working together, a few years back, and Himchan had a girlfriend (maybe two) and Youngjae was the one desperately seeking for a partner.

And now all of a sudden, the tables had turned, and that really made Himchan question his life choices.

Turning to check on Jongup, Himchan was pleasantly surprised to see the younger standing there, albeit looking slightly awkward, he gripped onto the strap of his backpack and kicked his feet into the gravel like a child standing by their embarrassing parent.

“This is Jongup, my new neighbour,” Himchan introduced him anyway for the sake of it, but all Jongup did was bow with his head which remained low and mumbled out a faint, “Nice to meet you.”

“Actually, I was going to say,” Youngjae scrunched up his features, thinking hard as he looked at Jongup, who slowly rose his head as Youngjae tried to gather his thoughts. “I swear, I’ve seen you somewhere before…”

“I was going to say the same actually,” Mina spoke up, giving a glance towards her boyfriend, then adding as she returned her gaze onto Jongup, “I can’t put my finger on it though.”

Confused but also with peaked interest, Himchan looked back at Jongup, who kept his face completely still, hiding any emotions he could be feeling.

“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” he said, the tone of his voice almost dead.

Youngjae nodded, “Yeah, must have.”

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

   
Himchan was starting to grow suspicious of his neighbour.

The theories were endless, but the best one he had conjured up by far was that the younger was some sort of idol, or had been in the past, and so was attempting to keep it low-profile.

Because even to Himchan, there were times when he would flick through the secret photos of Jongup he took and say to himself ‘I’ve definitely seen this guy before’.

But then he was pretty sure he would remember a short, angsty young man covered in tattoos.

So who was he?

And then Himchan found himself in his flat, cooking what could actually be classified as food for the younger and then sitting down alongside him to eat it. The black eye that the young man sported had fully blossomed at that point, his eye swollen and ugly, while the cut on his lower lip had crusted and looked almost just as painful.

Walked into a pole my ass.

But at that moment in time, it didn’t matter that much. Himchan was done with his fussing, when he invited Jongup over to see the extent of the injury, he made him sit in front of the TV with his feet up while dabbing an ice-pack at his eye and the upper part of his cheek, simply because Jongup was allowing him to. It was rare for Jongup to let Himchan go near him, let alone show him some affection.

Affection, Himchan concluded, was what the younger was starved of, and what he needed.

He was just too stubborn to admit it.

So now they were eating something Himchan had made sure to put a lot of care into, and when Jongup took a bite, the look on his face was priceless to the elder and he wanted to take a picture of it in his head and hold onto it forever.

“This is delicious,” his full mouth only just managed to squeeze out the syllables, as he began to eat like someone was going to steal it from him.

“Thanks,” Himchan kept his smile to himself as he also ate.

After eating, the both of them washed up together, even after Himchan made it clear that help wasn’t necessary and Jongup was the guest, the younger still insisted.

“So,” Himchan began, “What do you want to do in the future, Jongup?”

“The future?” He said it like it was something to be afraid of, though that didn’t surprise Himchan.

“Yeah, I mean, don’t you want a career?”

Jongup shrugged. “I’ll see how things go…”

“Says the guy who says there’s more to life than living,” Himchan hummed, but Jongup had stopped drying the dishes and instead turned his attention so that it was locked onto the other, who refused to waver under the intense gaze that was on him suddenly, “Don’t you want to live your life?” He asked, not in a way that mocked Jongup’s previous statement, but as an honest, earnest question.     

“Of course I do...I am.”

“Really? How?”

“I’m working, yeah it’s not great and it’s not a ‘career’, but still. School isn’t...at the top of my list...and I’m actually quite happy with where I am at the moment, so...” he shrugged again, and Himchan realised he had just been following Jongup in circles, only to land back in the same spot he had started.

“When I was younger, I always thought things would just come to me,” Himchan chuckled at the mere thought, “Then when I left school hoping some company would sweep me off my feet and take me as an apprentice, I got a huge slap in the face instead. I had to work my backside off just to get the job I have now, and even then I’m not satisfied.”

“You’re a driven person,” Jongup commented.

“Yeah, I guess, but I’m still lazy. I want stuff, but can’t be bothered to do stuff in order to get stuff, you know what I mean?”

Jongup chuckled then nodded, not agreeing aloud.

“Now if I was like Yongguk, wow, with my good-looks too? I’d be unstoppable,” Jongup full-on laughed at that one, making Himchan feel accomplished in a way.

“What is it that he does? If you don’t mind me asking…”             
           
“You mean apart from being a landlord? He’s a journalist,” Himchan answered simply, but it seemed his answer was anything but simple as Jongup stopped in his tracks like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him.

“A journalist?”

“Yeah.”

“Of what?” His voice became almost inaudibly soft.

“Current affairs, stuff like that, he doesn’t really specialise in anything.”

Jongup was still frozen on the spot, and when Himchan stopped at his own work to look at the younger, he could see his body was still there, but his mind was elsewhere.

“I should head home now,” he dropped everything, and made his way out.

Himchan glanced at the clock on his wall. “Now?”

Jongup answered Himchan’s question with the slam of the front door.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao I typed half of this on my grandpas laptop
> 
> bless his soul
> 
> anyway i gotta go
> 
> also happy month of pride!
> 
> my bday is actually on the 1st of june (im not telling you how old i am thats rude)
> 
> hope you enjoyed this anyway
> 
> things are happening next chapter woooh
> 
> thank you so much and al a view
> 
> Xx Vict0ry xX   
>  


	5. Aspirin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a message that is written in the current time btw: sorry this is late, I was at my dad's yesterday and my dad's gf is pregnant so yes there's a lot going on sorry again

This meeting was different.

There was a heavy feel in the air, and Himchan felt like he was doing something sly and deceitful. More than anything, he felt like he was being disingenuous towards Jongup, but he tried to argue with his conscience, saying that it was for his own good.

Yongguk sauntered into the cafe, not having to cast his eyes far to spot Himchan, as they always sat near the back beside the windows. Casually he made his way over, sitting himself down in front of Himchan, who felt his lower lip begin to ache from the abuse of his teeth.

With the look his old friend was giving him, Himchan could only guess that whatever it was Yongguk had found out, it wasn’t good news.

“I thought the name was familiar, but I never really researched into it...you know that flat next to yours had been empty for a while and I was desperate for a tenant-”

“Bbang,” Himchan cut him off, because he knew the elder blabbered when he was trying to pull the wool over Himchan's eyes.

Shutting his mouth, Yongguk released a needed intake of breath, and leaned forward onto the unstable table with his elbows.

“Do you remember that story four years ago, about that kid who ran away?”

Himchan cocked his head to the side, hooking his fingers through the handle on his mug. “Which one?”

Yongguk’s features darkened. “The one about the murderer and drug lord, Jung Daehyun.”

The name hit Himchan like a ton of bricks, and suddenly it all came flooding back.

“I never wrote anything about that case, but everyone at work was talking about it. Even the journalists who covered crime were shocked.”

They had a right to be too, for a few months it was all anyone could talk about.

Jung Daehyun was a criminal the police had been meaning to catch for what seemed like years, he had a name everyone knew but a face no one could picture, which made him all the more dangerous. Then one day, a normal boy from a normal school and normal life disappeared, and no one could find him.

No one knew if he was dead, kidnapped, or had simply ran away, it was as if his existence had been erased from the world.

Only a few guessed that his disappearance was connected to Jung Daehyun.

And then about a year later, police raided one of his places, and found the boy they had been looking for, more dead than alive, but still alive.  
He was branded ‘mad’, ‘insane’ and ‘psychotic’ for leaving his perfect life and letting Daehyun do whatever the hell he wanted with him. The worse of it all was that the offender was only sixteen when he was prosecuted for being involved with murder and the trafficking of drugs.

A year later, Daehyun was found, but he shot himself before he could be sentenced.

And then Himchan suddenly knew where the conversation was going.

"Are you saying...Jongup...?"

The nod of Yongguk's head answered Himchan's silent question.

It was too much to even consider that Himchan’s neighbour could be even related to such a horrific history, let alone be him.

Moon Jongup.

“What are you going to do then?” Himchan asked, though he wasn’t even sure if his words came out correctly. His mind was a haze.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not going to kick him out?”

Yongguk looked into his eyes. “Do you want me to?”

Himchan shrugged, “Do what you like,” it was easier to lie and seem like he didn’t care.

With that, the other shook his head. “He’s a good tenant, he hasn’t caused any trouble and he pays rent…”

His words spoke for themselves.

After they talked some more, the conversation flying over Himchan’s head, he headed back home and sat himself down on his sofa.

Was it always so empty here?

Without thinking, he reached under the couch and brought out his laptop, flipping it open and typing in the name that had been plaguing his mind with every step he took back home.

And there he was.

Moon Jongup.

The name still didn't feel right in his head, even though the name 'Jongup' had fitted like the missing piece of a puzzle before Yongguk had told him something he wished had remained un-touched.

His mugshots showed an angry teenager, with transparent skin and sunken eyes. His tattoos were like words written on paper, and there were cuts and bruises reaching where the ink didn’t touch.

But more than anything, he looked defeated.

Looking more into the case study, he read everything that the news articles had to offer, everything they had dug up from what was nothing but a juicy piece of gossip.  
The fact that Jongup had ‘several mental health issues’ as well as ‘internal injuries caused by the severity of the drug intake’ wasn’t the worse of what the articles had to offer, but more the descriptions of Jongup’s attitude.

He had felt no guilt for the lives he had taken and he did not think anything he had done was wrong.

And then Himchan searched into Jung Daehyun, and found out how he had taken his own life just as the police had found him, fully drugged up and swallowed into insanity.

Himchan glanced at the date, then back at the article.

In a few days time, it would be the date Daehyun had taken his own life.

Himchan slammed his laptop shut.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

   
Jongup hadn’t left all day, but that was exactly what Himchan had expected.

The elder had considered whether or not to go next door or not, especially when he didn’t know what state to expect the younger in, but in the end he let his feet carry him and his mind wander, until he found himself in front of the all-too familiar door, knocking just like he had done a month or so ago.

He knew to be patient, but what he didn’t know was why he was doing what he was doing.

Jongup was a criminal, did he really want to be involved with that?

It made sense now, all the pushing away and ignoring Himchan’s extended hand, so why couldn’t Himchan just see the sense in what Jongup was doing and leave him alone?  
Himchan pushed at the door, just to try, and was surprised to feel the steady creak of the door opening to his gentle advance, and cautiously entered the flat.

The place was a state, even worse than when Himchan had cleaned up after him that one time. He guessed he must have trashed it when Himchan had been on his brief shopping trip, but to think that such a mess had been created by such pure emotion in the short space of ten minutes made Himchan’s insides curl up.

Eyes scanning over what remained of the living room, he spotted Jongup lying beside the turned over coffee table, wearing jogging bottoms and a tank top, stained with crimson as his bloodied fists grasped onto his shirt.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse and as broken as every fragile object in the room.

And Himchan didn’t know how to answer.

“That journalist friend of yours told you, didn’t he?” Jongup didn’t look up from the floor, and the longer Himchan looked at Jongup, the more he noticed his subtle shaking beneath his thin clothes.

Jongup didn’t wait for his answer, it was as if he already knew.

“I told you to leave me alone, just leave.”

But Himchan hadn’t just devoted himself to understanding Jongup to be told to leave and obey.

He hadn’t done that, and wasn’t planning to start either.

“I know everything...I’m not leaving,” the words came out before he could stop them.

Jongup stopped shaking.

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“I’m not giving you my sympathy.”

“I don’t want your hate either.”

“I’m not giving you my hate.”

Jongup turned, his glassy eyes looking up from his curled, suddenly frail-looking body.

“I’m giving you my support Jongup, that’s all I’ve ever been giving you...as long as you’ve changed, or you’re willing to, then I’m okay with it.”

Jongup shook his head, turning his gaze back to the floor.

“I’m not,” he whispered, his words seeming like they weren’t directed to Himchan, but to a whole different conversation.

But it made sense, it all made sense. Himchan had never seen a human so ruthlessly torn apart that the pieces lay so obviously scattered that they made it seem so easy to put them back together, even though the fact that even if they were, cracks and scars would still be prominent for the rest of their lives, and they would never be as solid as they were before they had been ripped from normal society.

The scale of the whole situation hit Himchan, hell it hit him a few times, but he was resilient. He could only guess how Jongup was feeling, and that made him even more determined to be there for him.

Because obviously, no one else was.

Limbs moving before the brain could register, Himchan made his way to the curled up mess on the floor, and before he could shout or cry or hit him, he gave something to Jongup that he would never be given by trashing his home senseless.

Hauling him into his arms like he was unable to move, he held Jongup.

For a few seconds they shared nothing but the silence and their breaths.

Before Jongup opened himself up, and cried on Himchan’s shoulder until the night grew cold.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

   
That night, Himchan had stayed over, by ‘stayed over’, it involved him lying next to Jongup on the floor and falling unconscious from exhaustion. There was no heating on and Himchan felt his bones begin to grow cold, but after having sat and counseled with Jongup for most of the night, the chilly air didn’t bother him anymore and as soon as Jongup was asleep, his eyes closed shut and he found himself drifting away.

It seemed the crying would never end, even when Himchan sat on Jongup’s sofa with a mug warming his palms and a plate of baked beans on toast being placed in front of him the next morning.

“Sorry, it was the only warm thing I had,” Jongup explained dryly, turning to his own plate and sitting beside Himchan, both regretting falling asleep in the bitter cold.  
It had been nice weather recently, but as if they were in some sort of novel, the heavens had poured last night, leaving the morning to be damp and unforgiving, though the sun was quick to fix what the night had ruined.

“What are you going to do today then?” Himchan asked, flicking the channels over until he landed on the news.

I’m turning into Yongguk, he thought warily.

“I was gonna do some busking today,” Jongup replied.

“You mind if I come along?”

As if nothing had changed, Jongup gave one of his half-hearted shrugs. “If you’ve got nothing else to do.”

And indeed, Himchan had nothing else to do.

So after grabbing some clothes from next door, the two headed out, Himchan (after a few minutes of heartful arguing) helping Jongup by carrying his speakers.

Once they reached the city, which was just reaching its busy hour, Jongup led the two of them to one of his regular spots, and Himchan let him begin is magic.

No matter how long Himchan watched him, he could never take his eyes off him. Whether it was the passion or the skill or how Jongup simply handled himself, his dancing was mesmerizing and he felt like he was in the presence of something which deserved much more than a grimy street with a few busy people giving sidelong glances.

After an hour or two, Jongup took a proper rest, and Himchan left and returned with a coffee and hot chocolate, even though the sun was beginning to shine, the younger refused anything but hot chocolate.

“I fancy it,” he said.

“You wear full-sleeved shirts in the sun, Jongup-ah, what are you immune to the heat or something?” Himchan chuckled, but looking at the other’s stiff profile, he could see he wasn’t anywhere near amused.

“I don’t like the tattoos on show,” he took a sip of his hot chocolate.

Himchan wanted to slap himself.

Of course.

“Loads of people are getting them nowadays, no one will give you a second look.”

“It’s not just that, it’s just they’re...there...and they’re a part of me I don’t want people seeing.”

Himchan sighed, swirling his coffee in his hands, taking the lid off and watching as the liquids shifted and almost spilt onto the concrete underneath him. That was the worst thing about the tattoos, Himchan gathered, the fact that they were permenant.

“Jongup, I know I’ll never be able to understand, not completely, but you can’t just get rid of this part of your life that happened, it happened and you can’t change that, like those tattoos, you can hide them and pretend they’re not there, but they always will be and you can’t get rid of them, it’s whether or not you decide to ignore them and what people may say about them.”

Jongup said nothing, although he didn’t fully show it, Himchan could see he was taken aback.

And then he nodded his head, smiling down at his hot chocolate in the growing heat, but his pressed lips didn’t open.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

   
As they were walking back home, a good day of busking leaving Jongup with a bucket full of coins, they passed a few other people displaying their talents out onto the street as well. The sight of a particular young man, strumming at his guitar and letting the notes tell his story caught Himchan’s attention, and he gestured to the male.

“I used to play guitar.”

Jongup turned to look at him, a look of surprise on his face which was something Himchan had yet to see.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Himchan raised an eyebrow, “What, do I not look capable or something?”

“No, it’s just...you don’t look like the musical type…”

Himchan had to contain his laughter at the younger’s statement.

There was a time in his life when he was nothing but the musical type, he played several instruments and was actually looking for a job in the music industry. But then life got in the way, and he decided to separate his hobbies and his future career in order to make it easier for himself.

It was just disappointing that while doing that, he ended up giving up the remains of his hobbies all together.

“I used to play all sorts, piano, guitar, daegeum, janggu, kkwaenggwari, jing-”

“Wait, you played traditional as well?”

Himchan nodded, trying not to crack a grin at Jongup’s shocked expression.

“Why don’t you play anymore?” Jongup sounded so disappointed, it almost made Himchan want to pick up the nearest guitar and start playing it to show that he still had his skills, even though they were probably far faded away in is memory by that point.

“I just...didn’t have the time anymore,” it was a lousy excuse, but it was something.

Jongup scuffed the perfect expanse of grey underneath his trainers. “It’s such a shame…”

Himchan nodded, yeah, it was.

“Hey! I thought I told you not to come here again.”

Before Himchan could register what was happening, an elbow came and pushed him away, where it came from and who it belonged to he didn’t know, but he stumbled on his feet until he caught his bearings and saw a male, big statured and in a suit, grabbing at Jongup like he was some sort of rag doll.

What the hell…?

It only took five seconds for him to realise that Jongup was desperately trying to claw his way out of the other’s grip, and another two for him to realise that the man hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere to give him a hug, as he landed a punch directly onto Jongup’s nose.  

Taking five long strides forward, he reached for the stranger’s shoulder and attempted to yank him back once he picked Jongup back up, frustration starting to bubble up inside of him.

“Who the hell are you?” He asked, but the man ignored him and grabbed Jongup’s jacket, towering over him and almost pulling him off his feet.

“Fuck off man, this disgusting piece of shit deserves what he’s getting,” he spat, and when Himchan saw the look on Jongup’s face, the frustration inside of him was soon replaced by fury, and as hard as he could he pulled him away from Jongup, almost sending him to the floor.

Immediately he made his way to Jongup, who was hunched over and catching his breath, the whites of his eyes protruding and his breaths ragged while he held his nose which started to trickle a small stream of blood.

“Are you okay?”

“What the fuck,” a giant hand came and pulled him away, and suddenly he found himself face to face with the giant-of-a-stranger.

“Are you protecting his sorry ass? Do you even know who he is?”

And then it clicked.

And Himchan suddenly felt even more angry.

He had never been angry enough to punch someone, but there was always a start for everyone.

The man tripped over his own feet at Himchan’s swing, however the result brought nothing but extra complications, as quickly he regained himself and grabbed at Himchan’s collar.

Himchan didn’t care if people were watching, if he had just made one of the worst mistakes of his life, or even if he was about to be beaten in a pulp. It was as if all sense had just been thrown out the window, and Himchan was watching as the people on the streets below trampled on it.

Suddenly a set of arms came between the red-faced man and Himchan, yanking the stranger off of Himchan and finally allowing him to breathe and collect his goddamn sense back.

He gave a short glance at Jongup, checking if he was okay, then back to his saviour who was in the form of a tall, lanky young man.

“Fuck off, man,” his colourful language and towering stature surprisingly sent the man scuttering away into the nearest gutter, and thank goodness, the small crowd which seemed to have accumulated started to dissipate.

Himchan soon recognised the taller male as Junhong, where he came from he had no idea, but it didn’t matter as he immediately made his way to Jongup, whose nosebleed developed from a stream to a gushing river.

Since they were close, Himchan helped Jongup back to the block of flats, heading straight to his own home and swinging the door open with the aid of Junhong who trailed behind.

Quickly he grabbed at some tissues in his bedroom and handed a handful of them to Jongup, helping clean up his spare hand which was painted red.

Once the bleeding finally stopped, and Jongup was wiped clean, he was finally given time to calm down, taking big breaths in and out.

“Was that...did that guy give you the black eye?” Himchan asked, though he was well aware of the answer.

Jongup nodded, and Himchan felt his fists shaking again, like he wanted to punch the man again and again until his nose also started to bleed.

“You’re...you’re Moon Jongup aren’t you? The guy who ran away…” Junhong spoke up for the first time, and Himchan had almost forgotten he was there in the first place.

Jongup rose his head, looking up at Junhong who didn’t seem shocked or angry or disgusted, but curious in the most innocent way possible.

Jongup said nothing, as if giving Junhong permission to continue speaking.

“I thought I recognised you...everyone talked about you...at school, I’d never heard of you before, but suddenly everyone was saying that this guy from the year above had disappeared without a trace and that he was dead...no one wanted to walk home alone, people were scared, but then you were back and in the newspapers and they said you got what you deserved but...I don’t know, I thought it was sad, the way people were worried about you and then hated you.”

Jongup cast his eyes back down to the floor of Himchan’s bedroom.

“That’s just how it works,” he mumbled, and Himchan felt like someone had just squeezed his insides.

And then Junhong landed an awkwardly large hand on the smaller’s shoulder, not saying a word, but somehow assuring Jongup in the most simple way possible that he was there to support him.

Jongup didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge Junhong’s action, but Himchan knew that the darkness inside him had brightened up slightly.

Heading to the door, Junhong said simply, “I’ve got your back, hyung,” and left with a grin in Himchan’s direction and a nod of his head, which Himchan returned.

Sometimes Junhong really was something more than just a runaway college student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well shit
> 
> there you go
> 
> this is actually a sequal, if you could call it that, of my one shot existing (this is on my aff account (idk how to link on here he) my aff account is _enterdream5_ and it's not subs only so you dont need an account)
> 
> so if you wanna see jongup's side of the story, go check that out
> 
> its  a weird one shot, the type of writing i like to do
> 
> but yeah i didnt want to say the two stories are connected otherwise it would ruin the surprise
> 
> thank you and love you
> 
> youre beautiful remember that
> 
> Xx Vict0ry xX


	6. Codeine

Flicking through the collection of pictures Himchan had managed to conjure up, he was hoping that by looking at the various angles of Jongup that it would help ease his worries.

It didn’t.

Himchan hadn’t seen the younger for what seemed like days, only catching glimpses of him from time to time when he left or returned from work. After opening up to Himchan, spending time together and talking, he thought that their relationship had finally been solidified after the attack on the streets, Himchan (as well as Junhong, surprisingly) making it clear that they were there, by his side, whenever he needed them.

So when Junhong left and Jongup asked for some time alone, Himchan respected his wishes and left, not knowing that when he asked for ‘time alone’ he actually meant ‘some time to completely isolate myself and burn any bridges we made’.

It was on one night that Himchan had finally had enough - looking at pictures of Jongup like he had died wasn’t going to bring him back.

Thursday, the day he came back late from ‘wherever’ (somewhere he still had yet to tell Himchan about, where he was going was a complete mystery to the older man), Himchan leaned on his open door and stayed there on his phone until the sun began to set and the stars started to show. As if he was some sort of watchman, he vigilantly remained where he was, waiting and waiting for footsteps to be heard from the stairs in the tower block and a silhouette to appear in the darkness.

When those things finally came, Himchan slipped his phone back in his pocket and hugged his hoodie to his cold skin, leisurely leaning on his door like he hadn’t been standing there for what seemed like hours.

The figure slumped it’s way past the doors, past the many doors before Himchan’s, then right past Himchan like he wasn’t even there.

“A bit late?” He enquired, but Jongup just ignored him, digging a hand into his pocket as he stood facing his own door. If Himchan thought it was hard to read the male, it was bordering impossible in the dark where he couldn’t even see his features.

Then he glanced down to the hand which brought out his keys, multi-tasking as it flipped through the pieces of metal, helping Himchan to realise that his other hand was occupied with a large bottle of some sort of alcoholic substance.

“You can’t drink that,” Himchan stated casually, trying to hide the panic he felt welling up inside of him.

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you been drinking?”

Jongup turned, and suddenly Himchan could see his eyes, his nose, his lips, his anger.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” There was desperation to his voice, but Himchan ignored it.

“Because I care,” he turned himself so that he faced Jongup, so that he could at least read his honesty if he couldn’t already hear it in his voice.

“You may not be able to accept that, as if it doesn’t exist or something, but it does.”

“It can’t!” The emotion was starting to release itself, as his eyes and his voice let out so much frustration and sadness and so many other things which had been locked inside for what Himchan could tell had been far too long.

“It does, Jongup! If it didn’t, then I wouldn’t be standing here, right now, talking to you!”

“Fuck off, Himchan!”

And then Jongup threw the bottle on the floor, it’s contents of red staining the concrete a darker grey and the pieces of glass scattering to the corners of the earth, like Himchan’s faith in whatever it was had been between him and his neighbour.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

“Did you take any drugs?” Curiosity made Himchan ask the question, but to his own relief Jongup shook his head slowly, drawing the answer out and filling the messy room with the thick silence.

Knocking on the door that morning, Himchan expected to be ignored, although that fact had never stopped him beforehand and he wasn’t prepared to start giving up anytime soon. The remains of the wine bottle had been cleared last night via a concerned Himchan, but the red liquid was persistent and decorated the concrete in one big stain.

When the door did open, however, Himchan realised that (once again) he was simply Jongup’s neighbour who had arrived to clear up his mess once again.

Neither said much, apart from the occasional comment from the cleaner and the small ‘sorry’ from the broken man who sat on the vanilla sofa.

Gradually moving away from the living room, Himchan ended up stumbling into Jongup’s bedroom, which immediately made him feel like he was stepping on private land.

The room itself was not something Himchan had been expecting; contrasting with the rest of the flat which was bland and almost completely washed-out, this single room seemed to hold more information about Jongup’s life than the younger wanted to let-on in the first place.

It was the walls; they were covered in magazines and newspaper cut-outs, painting the room with huge statements and words.

‘SIXTEEN YEAR-OLD PSYCHO’

‘DRUGGIE’

‘THE BOY WHO THREW IT ALL AWAY’

‘MURDERER’

It started to choke Himchan - he had no idea how Jongup managed to sleep there.

Or maybe he didn’t.

Maybe he was never able to sleep.

Among the articles full of wordless bullshit, were many pictures. A few were of Jongup himself, mugshots like Himchan had seen on the internet and others being old photos of him when he had been ‘normal’, in his school uniform or even as a baby, with the words ‘“What happened to our son?”’ next to most of them.

But the rest were all of Daehyun, similar words that were used on Jongup being pasted next to his face, along with more sinister words such as ‘MONSTER’ and ‘VILE’.

“He didn’t always look like that,” Jongup’s voice startled Himchan from behind him, and he turned to see him, eyes blank and expression not letting on any emotions he could possibly be feeling, even more so than usual. Even when his eyes drifted to the walls that caved the two of them in, it seemed the part of him that had cared about what everyone was saying about him died ages ago.

Himchan turned his eyes back to the pictures of Daehyun, only a few blurry shots since they had never managed to catch him until he took his own life.

When Jongup’s words clicked in Himchan’s brain, looking at the vague, pixilated photos of the past murderer, he realised that behind those grainy dots was a human, albeit a horrifying one, he had been a living and breathing person. A living and breathing person Jongup had spent time with, time which had managed to successfully brainwash him somehow.

Himchan knew that there must have been a toxic relationship between the two, something so dark even the papers couldn’t make it up, but he didn’t want to think about it.

“Do you miss him?” His throat felt dry when he asked the question, as if the blurry image of Jung Daehyun was looking down on him.

“Everyday.”

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

Deciding that the confining walls of Jongup’s living space was too much, Himchan invited the other out for a walk, which he leisurely accepted.

This time it was different though; the sun was high in the sky and beamed down on the two of them happily. To the elder’s pleasant surprise, his encouragement for the younger to wear short-sleeves managed to work, and so he walked alongside Himchan in a loose tank top which fully displayed his tattoos and his toned arms which Himchan had never been given the chance to see beforehand.

Trying to distract himself from Jongup’s image which he definitely was not paying too close of an attention to, he asked as they walked alongside the river that ran throughout the park, “Did you know Junhong?”

“What? In School?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” a paused silence, and then, “But looking at him, I could see how my life could have been I guess. A nice kid who looked happy with himself, ready with his future plans, getting his life on track,” a dry chuckle escaped his lips, and then glancing up at the blue sky, his sad smile said, “I’m so jealous.”

Himchan kept his mouth shut, because he knew that no amount of talking could regain all the early years of adulthood the younger had missed.

As they continued their walk, they bought something for lunch (Jongup had a scary appetite for burgers) to then continue walking until they came across a male who sat slumped against a bench, wearing scruffy clothes with his face and hair looking no better, while in his hands was a small plea for help in the form of an old tin.

Without a word being passed between them, the two stopped almost in perfect unison, and watched as the man breathed in, then out, so slowly like it was a struggle.

Jongup glanced down at the burger he had just unwrapped, before stepping forward and handing it out to the man, who looked back up at him like he was eye-to-eye with a madman. Jongup’s eyes shone with the words ‘take it’, and hesitantly it was taken from his grip, the homeless man giving a frail ‘thank you’ and then beginning to eat. Neither said anything until they had walked past and HImchan had finished his own sandwich.

“Aren’t you hungry?” He asked, regretting not offering his own meal.

Jongup nodded, then shrugged. “I can buy another on the way back, that guy couldn’t.”

“That was a really cool thing you did,” it made Himchan feel almost ashamed for the ham he could taste on his tongue.

“It’s better than giving money, I know the lengths desperate people can go if they’re given money and aren’t in a right state of mind.”

His words made the air around them suddenly feel heavy, but Himchan didn’t add anything to it.

Continuing their walk, they circled back around and Jongup got the burger he had promised he would buy, devouring it in a few bites which took Himchan back a bit, but he was happy to see the younger happy and healthy. They agreed simply to go back to Jongup’s, as Himchan insisted he wanted to show Jongup how the bits-and-pieces lying around were extremely capable of making meal, and that he didn’t have to resort to buying takeaways every night, which Jongup denied he did anyway.

As Himchan began his magic, the phone began to ring, and it almost saddened him to see Jongup being pulled away to the call of probably some advertising agency, ruining the moment they were spending together.

Chopping an onion he had found lying around, Himchan took his time as he waited for Jongup, who he heard pick up the phone with a ringing, “Hello?”

And then it went silent.

For a while.

It was too silent.

Himchan halted his actions as he waited for the sound of the younger’s voice again, but all he got instead was the sound of the phone dropping to the floor.

Immediately he dropped the knife and ran into the living room, noticing Jongup who stood by the phone, which hung on its cord from the table it was placed on, as the caller kept on confusedly saying, “Hello? Hello?”

Jongup stared in front of him like someone had just slapped him.

And then he lost it.

Shattering like glass, Jongup fell to the floor, heaving in breaths like they had been running away and mumbling nonsense.

Himchan stepped forward quickly, not knowing what to do, whether it was best to just let the other cry or to ask him what was wrong or to just-

Soundlessly he bent down and wrapped his arms around the other, who curled into him like he had always been there and was meant to be. So Himchan stayed like that and let him turn to him, not asking why it affected him so badly and who the name he let pass his lips several times belonged to.

All he could do was hold Jongup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got my hair cut short today
> 
> i love it ive always wanted it cut short but was too afraid
> 
> but then i was like 'you know what fuck it you only live once'
> 
> i cut it and donated the hair to a charity which makes wigs for kids with cancer
> 
> i hope someone finds more use out of my hair than i ever did
> 
> today i learned that dreaming about something is nice, but actually getting it done is even better
> 
> Xx Vict0ry xX


	7. Morphine

It finally came to Himchan one day why he seemed to find himself comforting Jongup so much recently.

He liked fixing people.

It made him feel like he had a purpose, which in a way sounded wrong and made all his friends seem more like machines which often broke down that Himchan had to repair. But when he thought about it, that’s what they all were: machines that broke down and needed to be fixed.

If they didn’t get repaired, then one thing led to another and suddenly you’ve got all these cars on the driveway being a nuisance and blocking the way for other cars.

It was much easier just to get the job done and get the first car back to a working state than to spend money on new ones and waste lots of needed space.

Himchan shook his head as he took a sip of his much needed coffee, there he was in a cafe spying on his neighbour and making up metaphors of humans as cars.

The bookshop Jongup worked at had a pretty cute cafe, though Himchan didn’t trust a place which sold books with making his coffee, he ended up sitting there anyway and contemplating, much like he did in his normal cafe that he sat in with Yongguk. It was good to have a change, but he still preferred his usual.

Spotting Jongup among the bookshelves, seemingly unaware of Himchan’s presence (or maybe just upping his oblivious facade game, which wouldn’t surprise Himchan), the elder sat his face in his hand and felt his mind sink further into a blurry haze of questions, theories and wonders.

He liked this: sitting down, letting the sound of the busy bookshop become white noise and concentrating on the words of his own questions in his head while sipping on his coffee.

It was too tranquil to be boring.

Moon Jongup.

Himchan shook his head.

The man was still a mystery, even if the cat had been let out the bag.

It turned out that the person who called him was a man called Suwoong, he had been arrested several years ago but just got released and was a distant acquaintance of Daehyun and decided he would contact Jongup. Naturally, it triggered the ex-convict, and his mind simply decided to shut down.

Himchan’s phone alerted him out of his daydream and he answered to be greeted by his boss who brought him back to reality that he was, in fact, on his lunch break and he actually had stuff to do, like for instance, the making of his presence at the go-see he was supposed to attend to around five minutes ago. Gathering his stuff, he gave one last glance at Jongup before rushing out the cafe before his boss had his head on a plate.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

When night came, Jongup pleasantly surprised Himchan by inviting him out for dinner. It took all of Himchan’s willpower to suppress the flips and somersaults that were performing inside his stomach, and agreed to go with the younger with a bounce to his stride, because it wasn’t everyday that Jongup put an effort to spend time with Himchan.

The restaurant was more like a bar, but it was perfect; it was casual, calm, busy but not overwhelming.

As they ploughed through their starters and got onto their main course, Jongup raised a question which brought Himchan down to a stumbling and stuttering wreck.

“Did you have fun stalking me today?”

Himchan shook his head, trying to keep his cool, even though he wasn’t stalking Jongup anyway so he didn’t know why he was growing red and using large gestures.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay, I mean your job must be tiring since you seem to be so dedicated to it and I wanted to go into that cafe anyway,” Himchan rambled on, only able to stop his lips moving by shoving a piece of fish into his mouth, trying to concentrate on the taste and not Jongup smiling at him with that stupid smile of his which Himchan suddenly wished he saw much more of.

Himchan didn’t know why his mind (as well as his mouth) was moving so fast, it was making him dizzy and he gave a glance to his beverage in his hand, as if blaming it shamelessly for the way he was acting.

Jongup was being chatty, nice, smiley, Himchan just wasn’t used to it.

“Haven’t you got things you should be doing?” The younger asked, rather cheekily if Himchan had to admit.

“Excuse you, I’m a very busy man,” this was partly true, Himchan’s job was demanding, but he had to say he was rather lucky in the way that his work was rather flexible, as well as the fact that he actually enjoyed what he did and was pretty damn good at it too.

Jongup just laughed and nodded, turning back to his food.

“What about a girlfriend? I haven’t seen you with anyone but you seem like the type who would have one…”

Himchan didn’t know whether that was a compliment or not, but since Jongup was asking, he gave a smile towards the younger and waved his fork around. “I could have one if I wanted to, I just don’t have the time.”

Jongup raised an eyebrow. “Right.”

“No, seriously, they’re tripping over each other for me at work,” with those words Jongup burst out laughing once more, and it was like the sweet tinkling of bells in Himchan’s ears, which caused a long grin to stretch along his face.

They continued to talk, all the way through main course to after pudding, even grabbing a coffee just so they could stay for those few more crucial minutes. Himchan had no idea what had happened to Jongup, whether he had had a change of heart or finally just decided to open up to Himchan.

It was the side of him he had tried so hard to find, and to finally be face-to-face with it gave him a sudden sense of accomplishment and...something else.

When Jongup insisted to pay, even when his job didn’t receive even half the pay in which Himchan’s did, Himchan realised what that something else was.

Love.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

Ever since the realisation had fallen on Himchan, his mind was never-ending maze of dead-ends. It didn’t feel like the realisation had so much hit him, but gently push him a little bit each day until he was standing on the brink of a cliff which had only one option: to jump.

So as he stood on the train, even after work, even with the help of several distractions, even with the pushing and pulling of busy people all desperate to get home on a friday night, his mind could still not let go of the image of Jongup laughing.

“Hyung, hey, hello,” a large hand waved itself in front of Himchan, snapping him out of...whatever it was he was in, only for him to become eye-to-eye with Junhong, though it still felt like his mind had been left in limbo.

“You look like shit.”

“It’s called working hard,” Himchan tutted, looking Junhong up and down as he noticed his cool style and gelled hair. “You going somewhere?” He asked.

“Into town, I’m meeting some friends,” he explained briefly, and it wasn’t hard for Himchan to translate ‘meeting some friends’ to ‘getting drunk senseless’.

But, Himchan was young once too.

“So how are you, hyung?” Asked Junhong, as the train made a stop and people left, only to be replaced by what seemed like double the amount of people, causing the two males to come closer together in their conversation.

“Good, you?”

“Good, what about Jongup hyung?”

Himchan felt like groaning to release his annoyance; he had only just managed to push the other out of his head.

“He’s okay, great, actually, I think he’s gotten better, we’ve been spending more time together,” he decided not to mention the night where he lost it and took his frustrations out on a wine bottle, or the call from Suwoong.

“That’s great to hear, I was kind of worried about him actually,” the taller boy said, flickering his eyes downwards and putting on that tone Himchan knew well where he tried to cover up his affection and interest by using a sort of ‘cool’ and ‘relaxed’ tone.

“Yeah, he’s fine don’t worry, the only thing I’m worried about is the lack of friends, I mean I’m his friend, but I feel like he should hang out more with people his age…”

“Nah, he’s fine, you’re not that old hyung.”

“I know, I know, but you understand what I mean, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I understand.”

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

As Himchan left Junhong to go do what college kids like him did on Friday nights, Himchan made his way home with his head hung low in stupidity as the heavens opened and he had no more than his suit jacket to cover himself.

While making his hurried journey home, he came across Jongup in the streets, dancing as he normally did like the rain wasn’t even there. It brought Himchan to an immediate halt as his attention was stolen by the younger once more.

He wasn’t even struggling as the raindrops thundered down on him, coming down faster and stronger as the minutes went by. It was as if he worked with the rain, instead of fighting against it.

Beautiful, not just the dancing and the music but Jongup as a whole, Himchan didn’t even feel ashamed to admit it inside his head anymore.

When the song finished and the few people who had withstood the rain left, Himchan went up and the two silently carried his equipment back home, knowing the drill, though the elder no longer made the effort to rush home, not anymore. Seeing Jongup dance had almost shown him that the rain wasn’t his enemy, just because it made his clothes hang heavy on him and his hair stick to his forehead.

He wanted to spend time with Jongup as well.

The way his own hair stuck to his head, covering his eyes, though he still managed to move just fine. Carrying his money, carrying himself so well, Himchan couldn’t take his eyes off him, and all the sense of wanting to help and to care and for him to just accept him suddenly made so much sense because fuck it he loved this man.

He loved Moon Jongup.

Murderer, druggie, psychotic, he didn’t care.

At that moment he accepted what Jongup was and who he was and loved him for it all.

Once they arrived at the flats, sheltered by the rain finally, they stood in front of Jongup’s door and the smaller ran a tattooed hand through his wet hair, revealing his eyes which shone brightly.

“Thanks hyung,” and sent one of those smiles, taking his stuff from Himchan who had helped carry some of his equipment.

“No problem,” he felt his voice shake in response, because his eyes couldn’t leave Jongup’s face, his lips, all drenched from the rain.

And he was about to do something really stupid because he wasn’t sure if he would ever have the courage to do it again.

Silently and swiftly he leaned forward and captured the younger’s lips, feeling their soft slickness and relishing in it all, ignoring the fact he wanted to hold Jongup tight and run his own hands through his soaked hair as he parted from him almost just as quickly.

Jongup stared at him, he looked...terrified.

It felt like the rain had stopped, like time had stood still, until without a word, Jongup grabbed his stuff and entered his flat, resuming time with the slam of his front door and Himchan’s heart struggling to hold itself together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooh shit
> 
> short chapter but I wanted us to ease into this 
> 
> like ya know
> 
> i hope it wasn't to abrupt 
> 
> i mean it took 7 chapters for himchan to admit he's in love but i mean idk i just dont like the kiss being on the same chapter but at the same time it feels right
> 
> also yongguk's solo looks like my shit not even joking
> 
> noir is my favourite song and am 4:44 makes me cry to this goddamn day
> 
> see i love jongup, in b.a.p, jongup is my bias
> 
> but my ultimate bias of all fucking time is bang yongguk
> 
> his music is my type of music, it hits a note in me which i love
> 
> the meanings are special as well as the fact the music is dope af
> 
> and bang yongguk man hes just a special special human being
> 
> today i felt a bit crap and it was horrible cos i had no idea why
> 
> you get that sometimes?
> 
> anyway i got him and finished this chapter and it made me feel better
> 
> love you guys 
> 
> Xx Vict0ry xX


	8. Oxycodone

It felt like someone was slowly tearing parts away from Himchan, bit by bit, until there was hardly any of him left.

The first thing he truly felt after kissing Jongup was regret - it was practically embedded in his bones by the time it came up to his eighth visit at the younger’s door, which for the past week, had remained closed.

If he thought it hurt being ignored and casted away before, it had become torture now and Himchan honestly had no idea how he was still holding himself together.

His mind was empty, his movements had no meaning, not to mention his work which was lacking in its weakest form.

Only was he able to find release when he was sat opposite Yongguk, who in himself, was struggling.

So there they sat, two gloomy men on a sunny day with coffee in their equally clammy hands.

Yongguk had complained that work had been hectic, and as if he wasn’t stressed enough, his relationship with Jisu had shaken up completely, so much so that Yongguk was staying over at a friends place. Himchan offered for him to stay, but in the most polite way possible Yongguk declined, knowing himself how cramped those flats were.

Keeping his mouth shut, Himchan shone no light on his own problems, being fully aware at that moment that Yongguk had enough of his own troubles to deal with and the last thing he probably wanted to hear was Himchan rattling on about his fallout with his neighbour.

“Hey, Himchan,” Yongguk lowered his head to try and capture the younger’s gaze, who desperately tried to avoid it, knowing that once Yongguk captured your eyes, it was impossible to let go.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, voice lowering more than usual, displaying his concern in a way only Bang Yongguk could show it.

Taking in a deep intake of breath, Himchan brought his eyes down to the inside of his coffee cup, wishing he could drown in its liquids until he had nothing else to worry about.

“I love Jongup,” he said the words, and as much as they were embarrassing, they were surprisingly easy to say.

“Jongup? Moon Jongup?”

Silently, Himchan nodded his head, and for the first time in what seemed like years of solid friendship, he couldn’t pluck up the courage to look his best friend in the eye.

“I’m not going to say I’m not surprised,” Yongguk finally spoke after what seemed like hours of hanging, heavy silence.

Himchan casted his gaze back up, but kept his head lowered.

“I thought you were more of a woman guy...” Yongguk explained, and the relief brought Himchan back to earth once he realised that Yongguk wasn’t disgusted, simply confused.

Himchan shook his head, playing with his fingers. “I know this feeling…”

And then he looked back into Yongguk’s eyes, which seemed to hold much more than what he was allowing himself to say aloud.

“You…” He brought a hand up and ran it through his hair a few times, sighing and then starting again, “I looked into Jongup’s case a little more after I realised who he was...you have to be careful, Himchan-ah, he’s still-” He cut himself off, but he didn’t need to finish.

“Mentally unwell? Crazy? Psychotic?” A sudden rush of anger swept Himchan off his feet, and he felt a strong sense of protection over Jongup, even though he knew very well what Yongguk meant.

The elder leaned forward and said in a harsh whisper, “He’s not okay, he was brainwashed, Himchan, he was only released from prison two years ago, he’s still accustoming to normal everyday life.”

Himchan understood this, hell, he knew from the start. So he didn’t know what to do with himself and his unavoidable feelings that felt like they were rising and rising and so close to overflowing. He felt guilty, for not being able to just do what he was supposed to in the beginning and leave Jongup alone, for crashing into his life which was supposed to be easier and simple.

Himchan had fucked up, once again, and it was an inner battle between what was good for his benefit, and what was good for Jongup’s.

“The relationship between Jongup and Daehyun...it was something more, wasn’t it?”

Yongguk said nothing, but Himchan understood that he knew the answer to that question as much as Himchan.

“What should I do?” Himchan finally asked, hoping Yongguk would tell him something he didn’t already know.

Reaching out, Yongguk rested his fingers on Himchan’s cold hand, and said, “Just be careful.”

So much for something he didn’t already know.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

After their discussion, as if it had completely flown over the younger’s head, he found his feet taking him to Jongup’s usual busking place, only for them to stop and leave a disappointed Himchan stranded in the middle of the street.

After staring at the area in which Jongup should have been performing at for what seemed like forever, Himchan finally gathered the sense to head home, and it was only as he was hiking his way up the tower block did he finally realise how tired he was.

When he arrived at his floor, he made his way to his door, only to find the man he was looking for standing right in front of him.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, nothing that really mattered, anyway.

Jongup had a bucket by his feet and a sponge in his hand, scrubbing relentlessly at marks on his door, which Himchan was quick to notice was graffiti.

‘MURDE-’ it stopped there from where Jongup had washed away the words, but Himchan didn’t need to see what he had already gotten rid of to know what the word had said.

“What happened?” He asked, voice shaking more than he had intended.

Not looking at the owner of the question, Jongup spoke to the door. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Do you want some help?”

“No thanks.”

It went silent, apart from the noise of Jongup wetting the sponge again, then turning back to the door in a desperate attempt to erase what had risen from the past.

“You should tell the police.”

“They’ll never help me,” it was the answer Himchan had expected, but he hadn’t prepared himself for the heaviness in the younger’s voice - the weight of what he had done and what he had to go through.

“Ex-juvenile or not, they have a duty, Jongup-ah, of course they’ll help you,” Himchan argued, and finally, Jongup lowered his arm.

But the words that left his mouth weren’t the ones Himchan was hoping for.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? I get you feel sorry for me, but I’m not just someone you can kiss and then that makes everything better...I can’t feel...whatever it is you want me to feel,” and then he placed the sponge back on the door, scrubbing harder than he had before.

“Is it a matter of can’t or don’t want to?” Himchan asked, because they both knew this wasn’t just Himchan pitying Jongup.

Jongup stopped again, turning to look at Himchan, his eyes burned holes into Himchan and he suddenly felt vulnerable.

Without saying anything, Jongup picked up the bucket by his side and entered his flat, half of the word ‘MURDERER’ still left on his door.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

The next day Himchan was quick to tell Yongguk about the vandalism, who offered to contact the police, saying he had recently installed hidden CCTV on the stairwell so the offenders would be able to be identified, though they would still have to talk with the victim.

Knocking on the door of the latter, Himchan tried to ignore the obvious remains of the paint on his door, wincing at the way the words had been painted big and bold and obvious.

The door swung open, but before it could shut again in the elder's face, Himchan stuck his foot in the door and said the words he had came to say.

“Yongguk has contacted the police, you can ignore them if you want, but it would help if you said something.”

Jongup said nothing, lips tightly shut, he stared at Himchan like he didn’t recognise him anymore, and for a moment he almost expected him to lash out or simply shut the door without saying anything.

“When will they come?”

Surprised, Himchan answered, “After work on Monday, around six.”

Hesitating, the younger’s eyes darted from the right then to the left, as if a battle was occurring in his mind and he was unable to contain the inner conflict.

“Will you...would you come over when they arrive?”

The surprise was replaced with full-on shock, but nevertheless Himchan nodded his head. “Of course, whatever you want.”

And so when Monday came, Himchan sat next to Jongup and he talked to the police and Himchan was so, so proud of him.

His heart hurt a little more that day, but he suppressed the pain and kept going, standing beside Jongup and showing him that he supported him, whether he felt the same towards the elder or not.

Once they had left, collecting all the information they needed from Jongup, Himchan could see how speaking to the police had completely drained him, both physically and mentally.

Himchan couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like, no matter how many articles he read.

Almost physically shaking, Jongup scratched at his hands, as if he was trying to remove something.

“Thank you,” he said to the air, but no matter how close Himchan had stayed by his side, he could see that the younger couldn’t bring himself to look at him.

He was trying to fix something that was beyond repair.

Somehow, the elder managed to force the words out, “No problem.”

Jongup didn’t need to say it aloud for him leave.


	9. Tramadol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a double-update since I won't be able to post next Saturday, so go check-out the previous chapter and thanks for reading (I hope you enjoy)

Himchan let the rain pour on him, he had no idea how or why, but when Jongup danced in the rain, he seemed infinitely more beautiful.

It had been weeks since he had even plucked up the courage to look at Jongup, because every time he saw his perfectly sculptured features which grew more sunken as the days went by, the more he wanted to hold him and kiss him and stop him from taking the poison which was slowly destroying him.

But now he had become too used to standing by the sidelines; it was safer this way.

No matter how long Himchan stood in the rain, the heavens were unable to wash away all his feelings, and when Jongup stopped, he gave up and opened his umbrella, even though he was soaked to the bone, he made his way to the drenched male and held the umbrella so that he was safe, who accepted his offer and silently the two headed home.

Himchan’s heart was too weak - he was too weak.

Over and over again he apologised in his head, for being so selfish with his feelings and within his own world. Why couldn’t he be considerate? Why couldn’t he just stay away from Jongup?

Because he needs your help and you know it.

Or was that just Himchan’s feelings overriding all other means of sense?

When they arrived at Jongup’s door, the younger held the straps of his backpack tightly and flicked his eyes up at Himchan, looking at him with big, round eyes that asked so many questions and held so much pain.

“Why do I get the sense of deja vu?” He asked.

Himchan knew the answer, but didn’t give it.

“I can’t do this anymore...I can’t ignore it anymore.”

Jongup swallowed and casted his eyes back down to the ground. “Can’t do what?”

Himchan felt like begging at this point, begging for him not to say what had been troubling for the past month or so.

“You know what,” still, he was too coward to say it.

“How can I believe you?”

“Believe what?”

“That these feelings are what you say they are.”

Himchan felt like he was shaking, until he looked at the folded umbrella in his palm, and realised he was shaking.

“Why would I lie?” His voice was barely audible, and he had to question whether or not he had said them in his head or not.

“There’s many reasons why,” Jongup’s voice croaked, and the rain outside started to hammer down onto earth even stronger than before.

“I’m not,” Himchan said strongly, or what he felt like was strong.

Jongup looked back up at him, his eyes still denying everything Himchan was saying, untrusting and pushing him away. So Himchan retaliated, he pushed back, and leaned forward to press his lips against the other’s.

At first he expected what had happened last time, for Jongup to pull away and for Himchan to pull away and for Jongup to disappear, except this time he wouldn’t come back.

The younger flinched, but that was it.

He didn’t move.

Himchan wasn’t even sure he was breathing, and for a second he was going to pull away.

Until arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer and he hadn’t prepared himself for this so it took a while but finally Himchan found himself naturally melting into the smaller. It was unlike anything he could have imagined, Jongup’s lips were softer when he was kissing him back and his body was pressed against him and the heat exchanged between them made the water tainting their bodies evaporate off them.

Things quickly became blurred as they stumbled through Jongup’s door, Himchan pushing him against the nearest wall, kissing him and touching him as if he would slip through his fingers again.

Ignoring the warning signs flashing in his mind, Yongguk’s words and his laptop screen he had stared at for many nights with sore eyes, Himchan slipped his knee between the younger’s legs, who opened his mouth to let out the most beautiful noise to grace Himchan’s ears. Teeth clashed and tongues became entangled and soon they had fallen into another room, Himchan was unsure which one but when he felt the bed behind Jongup he pushed him against it, stripping off his soaked shirt and relishing every part of his body.

Once he had separated his own lips from Jongup’s, slowly he made his way down his body, kissing and licking every bump and curve until he finally opened his eyes and-

Scars, everywhere.

On his abs, his ribs, his collarbone.

Jongup’s breathing slowed, until it seemed like he had stopped breathing all together.

Then he sat up.

“This is wrong, I can’t do this,” he said, standing up quickly, turning his back to Himchan, looking at the articles which swallowed the room and suddenly, Himchan had also noticed them.

Daehyun’s unseen face, staring at them.

Staring at Jongup.

“We can slow down if you want,” Himchan couldn’t lose Jongup again, not after what they had just done, what Jongup had just admitted.

“No, we can’t.”

And then Himchan couldn’t control himself, and rose to his feet.

“Why do you have to push me away? Why can’t you trust me?!”

Jongup whipped around, the darkness creating deep shadows on his sunken face.

“Because the last person I trusted, was him,” he pointed to the wall, pointed to Daehyun.

And then Himchan didn’t know what he was feeling, whether it was frustration, anger, or even jealousy towards Daehyun, a man who was a murderer, yet still got closer to Jongup than whatever seemed possible for Himchan.

"I'm sorry, Himcha-"

Without saying anything, he left once again, leaving the rain to enter Jongup’s flat however it pleased.

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

The next day Himchan didn’t want to go anywhere, didn’t want to do anything, despite the welcoming sunshine outside, he wanted to stay locked up inside his flat and wait out all the joys of the outer world.

When the sound of paper was heard slipping under his front door, he tried to ignore it, dismissing it as usual advertisements for takeaways or something alike. But he knew it wasn’t that, which was all the more reason for him to argue in his head not to go and take the piece of paper.

Limbs moving like they hadn’t done so in years, Himchan left the safety of the sofa and went to his front door, peering down at the newspaper article by his feet. It was the magazine Himchan had modelled for, the one which he now knew the reason behind Jongup’s possession of it. Trying to ignore the words which boldly claimed Jongup was a runaway, Himchan slowly bent down, cradling the fragile piece of paper in his hands, before turning it over and reading the words which had been scribbled over a perfume advertisement.

‘I’m so sorry’

That was all it said.

And for some obscure reason, Himchan felt even more angry.

Or maybe he was hiding something else.

Taking the article, Himchan grabbed the nearest pen and wrote words he couldn’t understand underneath the miniature message, before heading out the home in which he had sworn to stay in all day.

Feeling the sun hit harshly against his skin, Himchan made his way to the place he was certain he needed to be, looking for a person he was certain he needed to find.

Relishing in the familiar scent of coffee and books, Himchan felt his nerves calm somewhat as he wandered his way between the mazes of bookshelves, trying to concentrate on the blend of voices in the background and not on the face which he had just spotted behind the history section.

With little to no success, Himchan pretended like he was interested in the history of his home country, as his eyes were occupied by the male on the other side of the shelves, either not yet noticing Himchan or putting on the facade that he hadn’t, the elder knew he only had one chance and if he fucked that up then everything was basically going in the same direction.

Glancing at Jongup one more time, Himchan slipped the article he had held closely to him through two books which were wedged together, then swiftly avoided the look the other shot him as he picked up the worn-out piece of paper.

For a moment, Himchan couldn’t decide whether he should stay or leave, but when no audible noise came from the man who was holding his heart in his hands, Himchan thought it best to leave.

Underneath Jongup’s message were the words Himchan needed to say, but couldn’t.

‘You don’t need to be’

 

✗✗✗✗✗✗

 

A knock on the door, and Himchan begged from the bottom of his crippling heart that it was Yongguk. He was almost certain he wouldn’t be able to handle Jongup, not in the state he felt he was in.

Trudging over to the door, gently he prised it open, only to be faced with the exact person he had begged not to be standing there.

Jongup, with his perfectly sculptured cheekbones and sad-looking eyes and tattoos, with his hands in his pockets and his lower lip between his teeth.

Breathing in, then out, Himchan tried to prepare himself for the words, something along the lines of ‘I can’t see you again’ or ‘I’m moving’ because honestly, Himchan couldn’t blame him if he wanted to do just that.

All he wanted was to settle down, be normal again, get his head around everything he had done and just be left in peace, not-

“Will you come over?” His voice was so soft, Himchan had to think for a few moments and questioned whether or not he had even heard the younger at all, or if he was imagining it, like he had done plenty of times beforehand.

But no, Jongup blinked at him a few times, completely serious.

“Now?” Himchan stuttered out.

Jongup shuffled, eyes casting downwards. “I mean, if you don’t want to now, or if you’re busy I under-”

“No! No, yes, sure,” Himchan stepped forward, shutting his front door behind him, and with it the comforts of his home.

Nodding his head, Jongup lead the older to his own flat, a place which Himchan had become all too familiar with, bringing memories he wished to discard and others he hoped to treasure forever.

Not saying a word, Jongup led him through the front door which was almost identical to Himchan’s, shutting it behind the latter before soundlessly leading him to his room. As they got closer, Himchan wanted to ask so many questions, but more than that, he felt his pulse quicken and his steps become shaky as he remembered what had occurred the last time they were both in his bedroom.

However, when Jongup opened the door and stepped inside, beckoning Himchan, the older felt all his thoughts shrink to nothingness as he was faced with something he had never been able to prepare himself for.

The walls were painted like...how walls were supposed to be painted.

There was a lamp, some photos hanging up and a few clothes sprawled around the small living area.

It was exactly like any normal twenty-year-old’s room.

No newspaper or magazine articles, no murderers or drug-lords or mugshots on the walls.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess, I just-”

“It’s amazing, Jongup…” he turned to the younger, but all rational thoughts and sentences had left his mind deserted.

And then Jongup looked at him.

Right in the eyes.

“I want to move on, and I think I can only do that with you.”

They were words Himchan hadn’t even been able to imagine coming from Jongup’s mouth. They made all sense leave him, all doubts, all negative feelings.

This was what Jongup was - he was someone who wanted to move on.

Himchan knew he would never be able to forget what had happened in the past, but for him to want to concentrate on the present and build a future for himself, he knew Jongup was strong enough to try.  

And he wanted to try with Himchan.

Which was all that he could ask for.

Feeling an uncontrollable smile stretch it’s way across his face, Himchan almost felt like crying as he reached forward and linked a finger with one of Jongup’s tattooed ones, holding it tightly and promising to never let go.

Jongup mirrored his smile, and Himchan could see that he was promising the same thing.

Neither needed to say it aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so thats it
> 
> sorry if it was disappointing
> 
> but i hardly ever do happy endings so i wanted to write one :)
> 
> thank you all so much really 
> 
> if you have any questions, dont be afraid to ask on here or on my tumblr
> 
> again thank you and i love you
> 
> Xx Vict0ry xX


End file.
